


Good Omens Drabble Collection

by Z A Dusk (snakeandmoon)



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Double Drabble, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2020-11-28 07:04:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20962472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakeandmoon/pseuds/Z%20A%20Dusk
Summary: Writing Good Omens drabbles is how I unwind! Herewith an ever-growing collection of drabbles (and some double drabbles). Mostly light romance / fluff with our favorite occult (or should that be ethereal) entities.





	1. Crowley / Aziraphale (sweet, light, funny etc)

**Heavenly Harmonies**

“C’mon, Angel. Just once.”

Aziraphale huffed with exasperation, shaking his head, but his eyes lit up the way they only did for his demon. Like stars shining brighter because they heard a celestial harmony.

Or not so celestial in this case.

Crowley turned on his most convincing gaze.

“You wouldn’t be breaking any rules. Just passing as human. That’s what they want, right?”

“I suppose.”

Aziraphale said doubtfully, but he took the offered device. Crowley grinned wickedly as he flicked on the machine. 

“If you sing karaoke as well as you dance the Gavotte, we’re in for a heavenly treat.”

* * *

**Cupid**

Crowley rolled his eyes. 

“Obviously Cupid isn’t real, Angel. Why would you even suggest it?”

“Oh my dear, it was just a jest. But it’s quite a nice conceit, don’t you think? To imagine one of our own down here, spreading a little extra love instead of fomenting discord.”

“One of our own?” Crowley stalked across the floor of the bookshop and casually draped himself in Aziraphale’s lap. “I’m a demon, remember?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Aziraphale smiled, putting down his mug of cocoa and leaning up for a kiss “You certainly did a good job of targeting my heart.”

* * *

**No Good Deed**

"Y'said demons can get inna lottatrouble for doin'the right thing."

The angel's brow furrowed in that deeply concerned way that secretly made Crowley want to wrap him in a blanket.

"But s'not good, Angel. Bringing your favourite wine counts as a temptation. In the job description, that is"

"But y'did it to because you wanted to cheer me up." Aziraphale muttered, blue eyes unfocused. "Could get in trouble, cheering up n'angel."

"Issss true"

Crowley hissed with a grin, his own inebriation making him bold enough to lean forward and brush his lips against the angel's.

"But at least I'll die content."**  
**

* * *

**Age Does Not Wither**

"Shakespeare again? Really, Angel?"

Aziraphale smiled nervously. There was something he'd been meaning to ask for centuries and this was the only way he could think to broach it. Crowley sighed and opened the book.

"Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety."

Silence fell, stretching endlessly on each side of them.

"That's not what the text says, technically."

Aziraphale muttered.

Crowley closed the book and regarded him coolly, waiting.

"So you were thinking of me, when you said that in the Globe."

Crowley shook his head, casting the book aside and leaning in for a kiss.

"Obviously."

* * *

**Not Such A Bad Thing**

Crowley sighed and frowned at the weighted grey blanket of a sky as he strode towards the bookshop, hands shoved in his pockets.

"Crowley!"

Aziraphale opened the door, and there it was. That tone that made Crowley feel, just for a moment, like he mattered.

"Hardly picnic weather after all."

The angel said as he stared up at the sky.

"Still,"

He took Crowley's arm happily.

"All the more reason to get cosy with a good bottle of red when we get back!"

The sky didn't change. But it seemed to Crowley that the sun had come out after all.

  


* * *

**Home To Roost**

  
It started with a rare edition of Paradise Lost that Aziraphale hadn't really wanted to sell, but he'd been warned about the frivolous miracles. Two days later there it was, back on his doorstep, neatly wrapped. Emma, The Iliad, Hamlet ... each one he sold came home to roost. 

"Crowley?"

They'd drunk enough that Aziraphale had forgotten not to try and get the demon talking about anything emotional.

"My books seem to have developed a homing instinct. Do you know anything about that, dear boy?"

Crowley took a casual swig of his wine and shrugged one shoulder.

"What are friends for?"

* * *


	2. In which other characters make an appearance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabbles and double drabbles that feature other characters alongside Crowley and Aziraphale.

**Chilly For June**

Anathema scowled up at the sky, then at her app.  
  
_Supernatural forces detected,_ it flashed.  
  
“Blasted pair” she muttered as she strode up the lane towards their rented cottage. “They promised they’d keep a low profile.”  
  
“Hello dear!” Aziraphale beamed when she stormed through the gate. “How may we help you?”  
  
“What do you call this?” Anathema demanded, scooping up a handful of hailstones from the lawn and brandishing them at the angel and demon. “It’s the middle of June! You’ll never even know we’re here, you said!”  
  
Aziraphale gave her that innocent look that fooled precisely no one.  
  
“Whatever could you mean?”  
  
He said blithely. Anathema groaned. They were nothing but trouble even if they had helped save the world.  
  
Aziraphale gave Crowley a sheepish smile.   
  
“Well, I did ask what your favourite weather was, and Gabriel won’t dare send me a note now. Still, perhaps we ought to be a little more inconspicuous.”  
  
“Sure, Angel.” Crowley grinned back. “Just as soon as I’ve finished with the unseasonable snowstorm I’ve got up my sleeve.”  
  
Aziraphale pretended to protest, but it was all rather half hearted.   
  
“Oh dear.” He said. “The humans won’t be pleased. I’ll put the cocoa on.”


	3. Crowley / Aziraphale (romantic / emotional / sad)

**Architect**

“A perfect spot to view the eclipse!”  
  
Aziraphale said cheerfully. He sat on the blanket, then looked up at Crowley.  
  
“Are you alright, my dear boy?”  
  
“Why wouldn’t I be?”  
  
The demon sat down silently, his gaze tracking to the stars. Suddenly the angel understood.  
  
“You’re thinking about when you helped build them.”  
  
Crowley turned with a vicious look.  
  
“I did beautiful work, Angel. I felt things differently, then. More open. Less pain.”  
  
Horrified by how much he’d revealed, the demon grabbed the wine and downed a good third.  
  
“Do you miss it?”  
  
Aziraphale asked, longing to comfort his friend, aware of how clumsy the words sounded.  
  
“Eh.” Crowley shrugged, and lapsed into silence.   
  
Aziraphale frowned. He couldn’t give Crowley night skies, waiting for his hands to sculpt them. He wasn’t sure what he could give the demon, though sometimes he caught a certain look in his eye and wondered, just for a moment ….  
  
Crowley looked away from the stars as Aziraphale lay down with his head in the demon's lap.  
  
"For what it's worth Crowley, ever since you told me that you used to create celestial objects, I always assume the brightest stars in the sky are yours."

* * *

**Too Fast For Me**

Crowley's phone was doing time in a drawer in his marble-topped desk.

It had started, as all their best and worst nights did, with wine. The red-wine-soaked fuzz around the edges had buffered his fear, made it seem completely natural to say:

"You know, Angel, seeing as we're on our own side now and all, I thought maybe we could finally go on that picnic you mentioned ..."

Satan, that felt like eternity ago. 1967. The same night he'd told Crowley he went too fast for him. Perfect idea, bringing up that night. Aziraphale looked stunned. Crowley grabbed his things and half-ran out before the angel could speak.

A faint but definite buzzing disturbed his brooding. Crowley dragged the phone from the drawer and gave it a look designed to scare it into toeing the line. Aziraphale's name flashed up on the display. Crowley swiped the screen at light speed.

"Yes, Angel?"

"Dear boy, why did you run off? I was about to say, after all we've survived, I rather hoped we could do a little more than go on a picnic. What would you say to spending the night? Or every night? You can't go too fast for me now."

* * *

**Home Fires**

Aziraphale shivered. His trip to Heaven had felt like performing a play to which he didn't know the words, in front of an audience that thought very ill of him.

Hours later, his time in the austere surroundings still chilled him.

A rap at the door lifted his spirits.

"Hey, Angel. Thought you might need a drink."

Crowley froze in shock as Azirphale reached up and touched his sunglasses, his gaze questioning. When he nodded, once, Aziraphale sighed with relief and removed them, gazing into the demon's eyes, and smiling as the warmth and colour rushed back to his world.


	4. Crowley / Aziraphale (AU and alternate scenes)

**To The Stars**

Crowley dragged an expensive suitcase from a chest, then gave a strangled laugh. What was he gonna do, pack a change of clothes?

He had no idea how to send himself to the stars. It was a bluff. He’d wanted Aziraphale to believe he had a plan to get them both away from this world. 

But the only bright thing in the past cursed 6000 years had refused to come with him, so what did it matter?

The knocking on the door surprised him. No human knew his address, and demons wouldn't knock. He opened it to find a nervous-looking Aziraphale.

“How do we get there?”

Crowley faltered.

“Alpha Centauri. Do we purposely discorporate, or …?”

“I don't know.” Crowley admitted, averting his gaze from the fear that shadowed the angel’s face. He looked up in shock when Aziraphale stepped closer.

“Tell me you feel something for me.” the angel said, and the plea in his voice felt like electric shocks in Crowley's chest. “Even if it’s a lie."

Crowley leaned down and brushed his lips slowly against the angel's. 

When Aziraphale opened his eyes, he gave Crowley a smile that held worlds within it. 

"We'll find our way. Together."


	5. Anathema + War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow writing drabbles where these two are in love is my new hobby ...

**It's A Dirty Job, But ...**

"It's so dull here now."

War sighed, irritable.

"Glad I'm such scintillating company."

Anathema grinned, pushing the last cookie towards her friend. War bit into it as if it were the enemy she had to vanquish.

"You think you've got it rough. Now I've burned the prophecies I can't use them as an excuse to get out of stuff. Come to your party? I'd love to! But Agnes doesn't say anything about me going ..."

War gave a laugh like heated metal.

"What's next then?"

Anathema smiled over the rim of her cup.

"Someone has to keep an eye on you."

* * *

**Riot In The Heart**

"You ... helped the Them settle an argument?"

Anathema frowned, waiting for the punchline.

War shrugged. 

"It was a stupid argument. Adam thought King Arthur was real, Pepper thought it was just a story to make men look good. I told them to go ask the two occult beings who were actually there."

Anathema suppressed a giggle at the thought of how Crowley would protest, but secretly love telling a tale of his time at court.

"I don't understand."

Anathema put her mug down and approached the incendiary former horsewoman of the apocalypse who was standing quite at ease in her kitchen.

"You're War."

"Astute."

"It's hardly in your nature to settle disputes."

"No, and I hardly plan to make a habit of it. But I did incite the bridge club to nearly riot so I suppose it balances out."

War curled her fingers under the witch's chin.

"Inciting conflict is one thing. Hurting someone I love is quite another."

"Oh."

Was all Anathema said, but it held worlds of longing. War cocked an eyebrow, watching realization dawn.

"Don't let word get around. Being War and all, it would ruin my reputation."

Anathema couldn't stop smiling.

"Well, you ruined my heart."


End file.
